Kushiel's Chosen

I'd no notion of what it meant; now, I prayed I might find it in Naamah's Service.
    It was done, and the priestess and her acolytes stepped aside. I knelt before the altar, the statue of Naamah, holding the dove in closed hands before me. Opaque, those sculpted eyes; we find in her service what we bring to it. "My lady, be kind to your Servant," I whispered, and released the dove.
    I did not watch, this time, as it launched free of my hands and winged its way to the oculus. The priestess and her acolytes did, tracking it smiling. I did not need to watch to know my dove found its way. With bowed head, I knelt until I felt the priestess' hands at my shoulders, bidding me to rise.
    "Welcome back," she said and kissed me; I felt the tip of her tongue dart between my lips and had to keep myself from clutching her wrists as she released me. The priests of Naamah are not quite like any other. Her long green eyes glinted in the slanting light of the temple, wise and knowing. "Welcome back, Servant of Naamah."
    Thus it was done, and I stumbled twice leaving the temple, leaning hard on the arm of the acolyte who had admitted me. A dam may hold for a hundred years, but once it develops a chink, the rushing tide comes after. Thus did I feel, having dammed the terrible force of my desires for a year
    and more. The dam had cracked when I opened Melisande's parcel and found my sangoire cloak; the flood was not far behind. I do not mean, if I may say it, that I loved Joscelin the less, nor desired him less for it. From the first, even when I despised him, I found him beautiful. And to those who think a Cassiline, unschooled in the arts of love, no fit match for a trained courtesan, I may say they are wrong. When he surrendered to it-and he did-Joscelin brought to our bed a desire wholly untutored, but as pure and wonder-struck as Elua's first wanderings on mortal soil. That is a treasure no one else has ever given me, nor ever could. What I taught him, he learned as if he were the first to discover it, eager and natural as a new-minted creature.
    It was enough, for a time.
    No longer.
    So it was that I rode home, torn between exhilaration and guilt. Dusk was falling when I reached the house, and by the stable-lad Benoit's downcast gaze, I knew he had been chastised for permitting me to leave alone.
    "Benoit," I said, causing him to lift his head with a jerk. " I am mistress of this house."
    "Yes, my lady," he mumbled, taking my reins. I couldn't blame him for it; if I hadn't felt the same, I'd not have regarded my escapade as an escape.
    Nonetheless, I told him firmly, "You do no wrong in obeying my wishes. I will tell them as much."
    He mumbled something else, hurrying toward the stable and leading my horse at a trot. Chin upraised, I swept into the house.
    They were all there, waiting. The day-maid sketched me a quick curtsy, and whisked past to make her escape. Remy and Ti-Philippe would not meet my eyes; Fortun gazed at me expressionlessly. In the background, my kitchen-mistress Eugenie waited nervously.
    And Joscelin strode forward to grasp my shoulders. "Phèdre!" My name burst from his lips, harsh with anxiety; he shook me a little. "Blessed Elua, where in the seven hells have you been?"
    His fingers bit into my flesh and I closed my eyes. "Out."
    "Out?" The white lines of rage stood out on his face, so close to mine. His hands clenched hard. "You idiot, one of us should have gone with you! Whatever it was, there is no reason for you to go unescorted, do you understand? Whoever Melisande's allies are, they know damned well who you are!" He punctuated his words with hard shakes. "Never, ever go out unattended, do you promise me? What on earth would possess you-?"
    Hard, his hands on my shoulders; my head rocked with the force of his fury as he shook me. Ah, Elua, it was sweet! The violence of it was spark to tinder for me.
    Whatever was reflected on my face, Joscelin saw it; his hands fell away. "Blessed ..." he whispered in disgust, turning away from me, his voice trailing off. When he spoke, it was without looking at me. "Don't do it again."
    "Joscelin." I waited until he turned. "You knew what I was."
    "Yes." His voice was brief. "And you what I was. Where does that leave us, Phèdre?"
    I had no answer, so gave none, and presently he went away. Remy released a long-held breath and fingered the dagger at his belt.
    "My lady, if he harms you, Cassiline or no ..."
    "Let him be." I cut him off. "He is in pain, and it is my